


The Last Court: A Detailed Plot Guide

by KnightDawn



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: The Last Court
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fanwork Research & Reference Guides, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-22 10:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightDawn/pseuds/KnightDawn
Summary: A guide to the plot of Dragon Age: The Last Court, a text-based game that was deactivated on November 17th, 2020. This work is intended to be used as a resource to help fans both new and old enjoy the content this game had to offer, and I claim no ownership of the original game. (I have also included a link to the screenshot database gathered by fans in the months prior to the deactivation.)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Last Court: A Detailed Plot Guide

**Author's Note:**

> Much of the content here is taken directly from “The Last Court” and all credit for direct quotes goes to the writers who worked so hard on the original game! I also want to give a big shout-out to the community of fans who gathered screenshots for the database, which can be found here: [(link)](https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/1Q8tL2tt_UvjQNHuyjegzbf7voW5pPdNW)
> 
> I have made minor tweaks here and there to typed-up quotes, mainly to fix small perceived errors in the text (such as mis-spellings) or to help with readability in this format, so I still suggest looking in the screenshot database for complete accuracy.
> 
> The database is truly extensive, but can be a bit difficult to navigate (especially for people who never played the game at all) so the main reason I wanted to put this together was to have something that could serve as an easy-to-access guide to the events that can happen in the game. If you want to dig deeper, this can serve as a starting point and framework for your further research. However, my goal is for this to cover all the major details in one place.
> 
> So, without further ado — let’s begin our tour of The Last Court!

###  **You are the Marquis of Serault**

> Serault lies at the ends of Orlais, on the far west of the civilised world. A realm of deep forests, stubborn people, and customs that border on heresy. Once, she was a feared player of the Great Game. But that was before her Shame. Now, she is a pariah-state, a refuge for the unwanted, the misunderstood, and the unlikely.

###  **The Shame of Serault**

> Your great-grandfather — brilliant, murderous, generous, romantic, ruthless. Mage, apostate, abomination. He brought disgrace on the Marquisate of Serault. Even his name is forgotten: they call him the Shame. 
> 
> For three generations your ancestors dared not show their faces in Val Royeaux.

###  **The Huntress or the Scholar?**

> **The Huntress** — Raised to rule. Trained in bow, sword, and steed. Fearless. 
> 
> The Huntress is valiant, charismatic, and skilled in the hunt. She cares little for books or schemes.
> 
> **The Scholar** — You divide your time between the great hall and the library’s hush. This is your chance to free Serault from the shackles of tradition. Seize it.
> 
> The Scholar is a little better at rulership. He is also learned, cunning, and has spent thirty years avoiding fencing lessons and hunting.

There are no real differences in the plot based on which ruler Serault has (aside from certain tasks being easier for one or the other) and you are free to make whatever decisions you want to throughout the story — however, the texts of their unique starting advantages you choose before you begin can give some insight into what seem to be their “canon” personalities.

> **Dignity — only available to the Huntress**
> 
> With the spoils from border skirmishes, you’ve furnished the chateau and held tournaments for the entertainment of your vassals. When wandering philosophers sow sedition, you deal with them harshly. The bards call you the Glass Rose of Serault: deadly, beautiful, adored, dreaded.
> 
> **Freedom — only available to the Scholar**
> 
> When the Cheery Baron levied taxes three times in one year, you summoned him to account for himself. They say you walk hooded among the populace, seeking injustice and protecting the common folk. (You don’t, but they say you do.) In the inns and the market-places, they wonder if you might be the one to bring change to Serault.
> 
> **Prosperity — available to either**
> 
> You could have hunted, you could have warred, you could have walked incognito among the peasants, you could have read up on your political philosophy. Instead, you built a foundation of gold on which a new Serault will rise. Good times are ahead.

###  **Atop the Tower Of Lights**

The Marquis surveys their lands from atop the highest tower in their Chateau — and the Huntress and Scholar have slightly different thoughts about each part of it, shedding further light on the differences in their personalities:

**The Huntress:** ****

> **Look west, to the Tirashan Forest  
> ** _Across the river, a rugged rush of deep, deep green._
> 
> We call the near regions of the Tirashan the Applewoods. The apples are dangerously potent, the woods are crawling with dryads, but the hunting. Ah, the hunting!
> 
> **Look east, to Serault Town  
> ** _A thriving river port. The heart of your realm’s wealth, such as it is._
> 
> Gold stone, red roofs. As far west as an Orlesian can go and still be in civilization. A quarrelsome nest of disrespectful craftsmen, but it’s yours. This is the edge of the world. Beyond Serault Town is the Last River, and beyond the river, villages, charcoal-burners, the wilderness.
> 
> **Look down to the Chateau  
> ** _The Tower of Lights is the highest point in the Chateau Serault. The seat of your family’s power lies directly beneath you now._
> 
> The Thousand-Windowed Castle! There’s nothing else in Orlais like the Chateau Serault! There’s enough fine glass in the castle to buy a Marcher city outright, if those barbarians understand glass. They’d probably try to eat it. 
> 
> “Payment in Glass” is the Serault motto: the mirrored stag, your emblem.
> 
> It’s a strong place, too. The Chateau stands on an island in mid-river. The Bridge of Masks is the only way east to Serault Town; the Green Bridge is the only way west, to the forest.

**The Scholar:**

> **Look west, to the Tirashan Forest  
> ** _Across the river, a rugged rush of deep, deep green._
> 
> We call the near regions of the Tirashan the Applewoods. The apples have interesting properties: astringent, intoxicating. It’s a dangerous place, but beautiful. You need to cross the river to find the rarer herbs. Oh, and you’ll need to go hunting, too, to find meat for the Divine’s entourage.
> 
> **Look east, to Serault Town  
> ** _A thriving river port. The heart of your realm’s wealth. If only it were better managed..._
> 
> Gold stone, red roofs. As far west as an Orlesian can go and still be in civilization. You love this place, but you know too well that it’s not what it was before the Shame. This is the edge of the world. Beyond Serault Town is the Last River, and beyond the river, villages, charcoal-burners, the wilderness.
> 
> **Look down to the Chateau  
> ** _The Tower of Lights is the highest point in the Chateau Serault._
> 
> The Thousand-Windowed Castle! Your ancestors liked to exaggerate. There are three hundred and twenty-seven windows in the castle, and only half of those are glazed, now. Glass has always been the wealth of your family.
> 
> “Payment in Glass” is the Serault motto: the mirrored stag, your emblem.
> 
> A remote place, but strong. The Chateau stands on an island in mid-river. The Bridge of Masks is the only way east to Serault Town; the Green Bridge is the only way west, to the forest.

**Both:**

> **Go back down  
> ** _Enough looking, enough dreaming. To work._
> 
> You descend the steep spiral staircase, dappled with gemmy light. Shafts of topaz and ruby light stream through the stained glass in the windows. The tower was built to be the heart of the Shame’s heliograph network — a web of towers communicating by mirror flash. Another grand scheme that came to nothing.

> **Your Seneschal** meets you at the bottom of the tower stairs. 
> 
> “I’m sorry to disturb your Grace, but two matters require your attention…”

You can choose to have either a Plainspoken or Hesitant Seneschal, who currently serves as your Counselor. Later on, as you earn favors from other people in Serault, you can replace him with someone better but he still gives a slight boost to either Derring-Do or Cunning.

Either way, he informs the Marquis that an apple tree in the courtyard blew over in the night and smashed half of the Great Hall’s windows, which will be difficult to repair… and there is a visitor waiting, a “frightening” woman who came all the way from Val Royeaux. 

_How unusual._

###  **An Unexpected Visitor**

> Strokes of early sunlight push through the empty windows of your great hall and sparkle on the carpet of glass fragments that crunch underfoot. 
> 
> A woman waits for you. She wears road-stained travelling clothes and bears a staff of knotted wood. She makes no attempt to conceal her magery. She bows. “Greetings, your Grace.” She places a letter into your hands and says, “I trust this will establish an understanding between us.” 
> 
> It reads: ‘The bearer of this letter acts for the good of Orlais. She is to be granted any aid she requires. She is subject to no justice but my own.’ Beneath shines the gold seal of the Empress.
> 
> The woman speaks again. Her accent is Fereldan. “I request access to your glassworks, your Grace, on a matter of importance to the state. I’m told they are the very best.” She smiles, expectantly.

Allowing her to stay adds **“the Scornful Sorceress”** to the people of the court, allowing the Marquis to cross paths and speak with her occasionally. Turning her away adds **“the Ghost of the Glassworks”** as possible happenstance instead: Morrigan _will_ use the Glassworks whether she has official permission or not.

###  **An Eventful Week**

After dealing with the visitor, the Marquis must turn their attention to the broken glass. Until repairs are made, it will be impossible for them to conduct business. However, speaking with the mistress of the glassworker’s guild reveals that they can’t make repairs unless the merchant who was supposed to deliver certain rare tints actually shows up…

The Marquis can agree to track down the Missing Merchant, which begins An Eventful Week, but there is an option to skip the search and replace the windows with plain glass instead. This saves time but also appears less impressive, which cuts into Serault’s Dignity rather harshly.

Happenstances that occur during the Eventful Week are a bit limited and the Marquis does not yet have many resources at their disposal… but they do eventually gather enough information to find the Missing Merchant:

> You track the merchant down to an ill-reputed house on Candles Street, where he has been indulging his fondness for contracted affection, strong wine, and certain herbs from the depths of the Applewoods.
> 
> Your guards drag him before you. He makes a hoarse apology. “I may have over-indulged, your Grace. You know what they say: ‘There is no guilt in Serault.’”
> 
> You demand to know what he means. “Only that no one cares what happens here,” he stammers. “A man — or woman! — can indulge their vices in Serault without worrying that word of them will get back home.”

The Marquis can either seize his cargo (“No guilt, eh? So be it!”) or send the fool away (“You’ve got the tints. That’s what matters.”) but either way, the tints are recovered and the windows get restored to their former glory:

> Your new windows paint the hall in a thousand vibrant colors. The stag of Serault rears on the left, while on the right a blazing Andraste stands, masked in accordance with local custom. They look magnificent.
> 
> The next day is a market day. The streets course with visitors. Peddlers rub shoulders with priests. Chevaliers ride past ragged vagabonds. Merchants bedeck their stalls with bright cloth. In your hall, your seneschal approaches with urgent news...

###  **A Miraculous Opportunity**

> The message is from the Divine Justinia herself: fifth of her name, exalted servant of the maker, supreme ruler of the Chantry. She is travelling to a peace summit, and her great Progress will bring her to Serault. ‘We are eager to see,’ the letter reads, ‘whether Serault has redeemed her ancient Shame.’
> 
> This is your chance to restore your realm’s fortunes. You will hold the greatest feast in a hundred years: you must win the Divine’s favor. Serault won’t have a chance like this again.

###  **Blown in on the Wind**

On this first Market Day, a man is also introduced to the Marquis by one of their court members: the Wayward Bard, the Elegant Abbess, or the Acerbic Dowager. The Marquis gains a favor from whoever escorts him in and each of them have slightly different ways of introducing him:

> **The Acerbic Dowager** is one of your vassals. After she lost her husband and lands to rebellion, your mother gave her a place under your roof. She is blunt, but intricately connected to the noble houses of Orlais.
> 
> One evening, she presents a young, dark haired man in road-worn clothes. “Your Grace, I would like to introduce the son of a dear correspondent of mine. He has travelled far, and has further to go. I hope, for my sake, you’ll grant him a night’s hospitality. This is Carver Hawke, brother to the — let’s say ‘infamous’, shall we? — the ‘infamous’ Hawke of Kirkwall.”
> 
> You note the flicker of irritation on the man’s face as he bows.

> **The Elegant Abbess** commands Serault Abbey and its extensive vineyards.
> 
> She dips into a fluid curtsey, giving you a secret smile. Beside her stands a black-haired young man. His face is drawn with pain. “Your Grace. This man arrived, wounded, at the abbey. Upon his recovery he made a bold claim as to his identity. I thought it best to bring him here.”
> 
> The man bows, stiffly. “Carver Hawke, your Grace. Brother to a rather more famous Hawke: the Champion of Kirkwall, who — among their _countless_ achievements — has turned our name into a sign that reads ‘come and get me’ to half the killers in Thedas.”

> **The Wayward Bard** comes and goes as he pleases, but he’s the only bard you’ve got. And he does bring you the most delightful secrets…
> 
> Today, he is moderately sober. “Present for you,” he chirps, his arm around the shoulders of an uncertain, black-haired young man. “Found him in a tavern. If he’s who he says he is, he might be useful. And if he isn’t… well, he might be even more useful.” He grins.
> 
> His companion bows. “Carver Hawke, your Grace. Brother to the other Hawke. You know the one: Champion of Kirkwall. Slayer of Qunari. Pain in my Arse. At your service.”

Carver himself can be a Warden, a Templar, or an Imposter. You can choose any of the answers you prefer, since the game does not pull information or plot flags from pre-existing worldstates.

###  **An Unofficial Meeting**

No matter what, the Marquis is free to allow him to stay in Serault briefly or send him away. Making him welcome will always earn the Marquis a Secret, which will help with earning the Divine’s Favor, while turning him away will earn the Marquis Authority instead.

There are two scenarios that can lead to **Imposter** Carver, and while the Bard gets special dialogue the other two potential escorts have nearly identical reactions.

**Wayward Bard:**

> **“Call yourself a Bard? Carver Hawke died at Lothering.”  
> ** _You paid close attention to the events that happened at Kirkwall._
> 
> Your Bard blinks. “Did he? You’re very well informed. You haven’t been hiring better spies than me, have you? I shall be offended.” His hand on ‘Carver’s’ shoulder produces a knife. He presses it to the Imposter’s throat. “Well then, what we have here is a confidence trickster who’s scammed his way across half the estates in Orlais. Do you think he’s picked up anything useful on his travels?”
> 
> **“You’re no such thing. Carver died on the Deep Roads.”  
> ** _He contracted the Taint. It was death or darkspawn._
> 
> Your Bard scratches his beard. “You know, I do recall hearing something to that effect. Oh, well.” He gestures to the guards, who seize the struggling imposter. “We may not have a Hawke, but we do have a confidence man who’s wormed his way across Orlais. If I were you, I’d squeeze him until all his nasty little secrets come out.”

**Acerbic Dowager:**

> **“Dowager, step Back. That’s not Carver Hawke.”  
> ** _Carver died at Lothering. This is an imposter. Probably a confidence trickster; possibly a spy._
> 
> **“No, Dowager, it’s not. Carver Hawke died on the Deep Roads.”  
> ** _He contracted the Taint, and his own sibling had to slay him. This trickster who stole his name should have done more research._
> 
> You paid close attention to Hawke’s escapades in Kirkwall. Change comes in like an angry wind, and those who watched Kirkwall could see which way it would blow. When the Mage-Templar War began, it did not come as a surprise.
> 
> The Dowager is shocked. ‘Carver’ panics. “Your Grace, wait! I can be of use!” He cries.

**Elegant Abbess:**

> **“You’ve been tricked, Abbess. Carver Hawke died at Lothering.”  
> ** _This man is an imposter, no doubt intending to trick Serault out of wealth or secrets._
> 
> **“You’re a liar, sir. Carver Hawke died on the Deep Roads.”  
> ** _The Taint took him. His own sibling had to kill him, you’ve heard. Better that than darkspawn._
> 
> You paid close attention to Hawke’s escapades in Kirkwall. Change comes in like an angry wind, and those who watched Kirkwall could see which way it would blow. When the Mage-Templar War began, it did not come as a surprise.
> 
> The Abbess steps neatly away as your guards close in. ‘Carver’ panics. “Your Grace, wait! I can be of use!” He cries.

At this point, it falls to the Marquis to decide what to do with him:

> **Imprison the Imposter.**   
>  _He can rot in the dungeon. A taste of Serault justice._
> 
> ‘Carver’ begs for mercy. You have none. Your guards drag him down to the cells under the Tilted Tower, where the stone walls creak and the rats scurry. Let him try his tricks on _them._
> 
> Serault is spared his schemes, and the lords and ladies of her high houses praise your judgement.
> 
> **Free the Imposter.**   
>  _He can go — just as soon as he shares whatever secrets he wheedled from the rest of Orlais._
> 
> He gives up his secrets eagerly, desperate to win your mercy. A priestess’ indiscretion. The hidden truth behind a merchant’s success. The name of a noble family concealing their son’s apostasy.

  
  


Both **Templar** and **Warden** Carver are a bit more straightforward, and have the same greeting regardless of who introduced them.

**Templar Carver:**

> **“Greetings, Templar.”  
> ** _Mail bulks the frame beneath his cloak. A sunburst brooch winks at his collar. He joined the order at Kirkwall, you’ve heard, just before the war began._
> 
> He bows, deeply. “I’m just passing through, Your Grace. I assure you, I’ve no intention of involving you in the troubles of Circle and Chantry. I just want something to eat, a night’s sleep, and no trouble. I’m even prepared — through gritted teeth — to answer questions about my sibling.”
> 
> **Cast him out.  
> ** _Serault fears no-one. Not even Templars._
> 
> Now that the Templars have abandoned the chantry, what authority do they have? They are only brutes with swords.
> 
> You condemn Carver for the templars’ renunciation of the chantry and banish him before your court. Your courtiers applaud. Templars are not loved, here. Many remember what the order did to your ancestor. He might have been an abomination, but he was still Serault. He deserved better.
> 
> **Grant him hospitality.**   
>  _Who would know more about the chantry’s recent troubles than a templar?_
> 
> Your servants bring smoked venison, steaming on long green beans and piled with sweet cranberries. Carver eats like a wolf. A rich wine loosens his tongue, and between gulps he tells you about the schism between the templars and the chantry.
> 
> When he leaves the next morning he is tight-lipped, fidgeting with the reins of his horse. He knows he said more than he should have.

**Warden Carver:**

> **“Greetings, Warden.”  
> ** _A shabby grey cloak. His sword-hilt, worn with use. That distance behind the eyes that all the Grey Wardens get after their Joining._
> 
> “An honor, your Grace,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’m not here recruiting. I’ve business elsewhere, but I could do with a roof over my head and a warm meal for once. I can pay for my board with news of the places I’ve passed through, or — reluctantly — with tales about the antics of my sibling, who has more fame than I do, though also less sense.”
> 
> **Turn him away.**  
>  _Wardens always want something. Recruits. Arms. A dangerous, sinister service they’ll never explain._
> 
> The world is just emerging from the Fifth Blight. There won’t be another for decades, perhaps centuries. “Come back then,” you tell Carver. He bows, his face impassive. He’s used to this.
> 
> Your courtiers commend your judgement. Serault has her own problems. And with the Divine due, the last thing the realm needs is to be dragged into one of the Wardens’ injurious follies.
> 
> **Welcome him.**   
>  _The Maker knows his order receives little gratitude. “A Warden never brought good news,” it’s said._
> 
> You dine on a fat partridge, simmering in a pot with sweet onions and pale beans, then a plate of round cakes, peppered with poppyseed and laced with honey. Your cook has baked Serault antlers into their crusts.
> 
> Carver isn’t used to such kindness. “Serault has always been a friend to the Wardens,” he says, nursing his cup of spiced wine. “Your ancestor,” he touches his nose, rather than say the name, “did important work for us. Vital work.” Interesting.

The secret Warden Carver hints at actually plays a role in another part of the story, as will soon be evident...

**Author's Note:**

> You can also me on tumblr at [silvanils](https://www.silvanils.tumblr.com) if you like my work!


End file.
